Booty Call
by cmar
Summary: PRTF: The hunt for a mutant in the present forces Wes and Eric to relive memories of the past, and just may change their future. Slash, for PRSW22, not part of any series.


Wes, Eric, and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Anyone you don't recognize is mine.

Rated M: language, some sexual content including m/m sexual relationships.

(An adult/NC-17 version is posted on RangerFiction, site address is in my profile. You must register and log on to see adult stories listed.)

**A/N:** This is a response to a challenge by Angel Negra and is also included in the Power Rangers Slash Write 22 challenge. It is standalone and _not_ part of my 'Red Fire' series.

The challenge by Angel Negra (originally for the Slash Ficathon):  
1. Wes/Eric (PRTF)  
2. Post-'Forever Red'  
3. A mutant that escaped the original arrests/captures in Silver Hills surfaces.  
One thing you do not want to see in the story: Wes having never loved Jen. He has to have loved her and moved on.

Reviews are always appreciated.

**Booty Call**

* * *

"He's got to be around here somewhere." 

"Assuming that report of a mutant wasn't just someone hallucinating."

"All dozen people who saw it? I don't think so."

"What's a mutant doing still here, anyway?"

"Beats me. 'Course, we thought they were all gone when the mutorgs showed up, too."

"Yeah. Come on, this way." Wes beckoned, and turned a corner into a hallway leading to the back of the storage warehouse they were searching. Eric's footsteps behind him were only a soft scuffing on the dusty floor. Wes suppressed the urge to sneeze as their movements stirred the stale, musty air. Rubbing his nose on the sleeve of his uniform, he went on, looking back when they reached a doorway into an area too dark for him to see.

Eric already had his standard issue Silver Guardian flashlight in his hand. Wes got out his own, and together they moved out, projecting two small circles of light on the floor. After a few steps Wes stopped and directed the beam up and around, revealing a vast space crammed with rows of tall metal shelving piled with boxes.

"Jesus," Eric complained in a half-whisper. "It'll take a week to search this dump."

"Maybe not. Look." Wes had his light pointed down now, to highlight barely visible impressions in the dust. "Footprints."

"Can't tell how old they are."

"No. But look at the shape, and the size."

"Not human." Eric moved the beam of his flashlight to follow the imprints. "Come on." Slowly and cautiously, careful to stay together, they advanced deeper into the darkness.

"_Don't come any closer." _They both froze as they heard that soft voice, floating on the thin air like the fine haze of dust surrounding them.

"Sounds like he's a she," Wes muttered. He raised his voice. "Who are you?"

"_My name is Memora. And who do I have the honor of addressing?"_

Eric answered in a harsh growl. "You have the 'honor' of addressing the Rangers who're about to kick your butt, lady."

"_How ungentlemanly."_

"Memora," Wes said softly. "I don't remember Jen or the others mentioning any mutant named that."

"Looks like they left one out." Eric started forward. "Sooner we find her, sooner we can get out of here."

"You go left, I'll go right. Yell if you see anything."

"Okay."

Wes turned out of the aisle they had been following and moved down the space between two sets of shelves, briefly looking up at the stacks of stored equipment and supplies rising up on either side towards the ceiling. Eric's footsteps had faded away, and he was alone in the stillness - until that soft voice came again.

"_I told you not to get too close."_

He went down into a tense crouch as the sound seemed to come from right in front of him. A sudden flare of light blinded him, as bright and warm as the sun; a breeze fanned his face, the smell of the ocean filled his nostrils, the dark of the warehouse melted into sky and sea and sand and he was somewhere else...

"I want you to have this, Wes." The pretty young woman standing before him took his hand and pressed something into it. Wisps of brown hair stirred in the air and her dark eyes were bright with unshed tears as she used her other hand to close his fingers over her Time Force badge. "Don't ever forget me." The words trembled slightly.

"Never could," he said, trying to control his own voice.

With only one more look, Jen turned and started away. Wes watched her, almost giving in to the impulse to follow, and grab her; keep her here somehow or beg to go with her.

And she turned, and ran back to him, throwing herself into his arms. He hugged her tightly, squeezing his eyes shut against his own tears as he heard her sob, wishing it meant she would stay, but knowing it didn't. This only made it harder, and yet it didn't matter for as long as they were holding each other at last.

She pulled back a little, just enough to look at him as she said, "I should have told you a long time ago... I love you."

"I love you, too. I wish I could live another thousand years so we could be together again."

She filled his arms for one moment more. And then it was over, as she backed away, holding onto his hands as long as she could, then turning and running blindly for the ship until she disappeared in a twinkle of pink light.

Seconds later he heard Eric's voice calling a salute behind him as the timeship lifted off, taking his heart with it as it plunged into the black vortex of the timehole that would return his friends and his love to their own time and their own lives, leaving him standing alone.

"Take care..." Wes whispered.

He stared up into the empty sky, barely aware of footsteps approaching and his father's voice as it asked, "You okay...?"

"Wes! Wes! Are you all right?" At the sudden, louder sound of a different voice, Wes opened his eyes to see Eric's face, one side lit by the glare of a flashlight and the other shadowed in the darkness of the warehouse. His partner's voice was sharp and harsh with fear and concern. "What the _hell_ was _that_?"

"I - I don't know..."

"I was back on the beach. When Jen and the others were leaving."

"Yeah." Wes realized he was sitting hunched on the floor, and straightened up. "Me too... Saying goodbye to Jen... It was so _real_..."

"_This is why they call me Memora."_

"Look!" Eric sprang to his feet. "There she is!" A shadow in the distance moved; a pale gray form darted around a corner and disappeared. Eric took off after it, vanishing into the darkness as Wes scrambled to his feet to follow.

- - -

"Where are you?" Eric shouted. It was too hard to see with only the narrow beam of a flashlight; it created motion where there was none as he swung it back and forth. He slowed and listened, hoping for the sound of footsteps or breathing to tell him which direction to go in, but silence was all that rewarded him. "We'll find you sooner or later!" he called. "Why not make it easy on yourself, and give up!"

"_And face destruction like the others Ransik sent against you? No, thank you."_

"We won't destroy you if you give up!"

"_Why should I believe you?"_

Eric didn't bother to answer. The voice had given him a direction, and he moved as quietly as he could, his hand over the end of the flashlight to mute the brightness. If he was right, she was just on the other side of this shelving unit, right around the corner. He turned, pressed his back against the metal and slid to the corner, stretching his neck to look around it. A glimmer of brightness greeted him, growing and changing into the glow of an overhead light; the long corridor between shelves in a dark warehouse became a short hallway in a familiar house, and the door to his own bathroom waited at the end as he raised a hand...

"There it is." Eric pointed, and watched as Wes lurched in that direction, bumping against the wall on his way. "If you're gonna puke, don't miss the bowl," he grumbled.

"I'm not gonna puke. I'm fine." Wes pulled the door shut behind him.

"Yeah, right, you're fine." Eric snickered and pointed himself back in the direction of the living room, managing to make it in more or less a straight line.

He collapsed onto the sofa and glared at the almost empty bottle of Scotch sitting so smugly on his coffee table. "Man, never again," he muttered to it, not sure if he meant never to get drunk again or never to let Wes come over again, at least if all he was going to do was moan about Jen. "Can't believe she's gone," he mimicked savagely. "I miss her. We never got the chance to be together. Should never have fallen in love with her. Now we'll never see each other again."

Depressed, he fell into silence. To be honest, there had been no way to say no, not when Wes had looked and sounded so sad at work today, exactly a month after Jen and the others had gone. It had seemed reasonable to go out after work to hit one of the local bars. Wes had had a few too many, and sick as Eric had been by then of hearing the wonders of Jen proclaimed, it had seemed equally reasonable to bring him back to the house instead of dropping him off at his father's mansion. Then it had seemed only natural to get out the bottle now decorating the coffee table, just for one drink, just to keep Wes company. And then another. And another, as they both attempted to drown their separate sorrows.

So now here they were, himself just this side of tanked and Wes considerably beyond it. And it looked like they were going to stay here, since Wes was in no shape to drive home even if his car wasn't still in the bar parking lot, and calling a cab just seemed like too much trouble.

"Hey." Wes's voice came from the doorway, where he was staying upright mostly by leaning against the frame.

"Hey yourself." Resolutely, Eric staggered to his feet. "Come on. Get you to bed."

"Bed?" Wes giggled. "What're you suggesting?"

He couldn't have meant that the way it sounded. "I'm suggesting you get some sleep." Eric scowled before taking Wes's arm and steering him in the direction of the bedroom.

"Eric..." It came out sounding more like 'Erk'.

"What?"

"Erk... You ever been in love?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. You."

"Maybe." He glared at his partner again, this time suspiciously.

"You like guys?"

That almost sobered him for a moment. "_What_?"

"Shimple... Simple question. You like guys?"

"Shut up, will ya? You're dunk. I mean drunk."

"'Cause _I_ like guys." Wes poked a finger in the general direction of his own chest.

Eric stopped with another jolt. "Huh?"

"I'm bisesh... bisechual... bisexshal. Girls. Guys. Whatever."

"Yeah, right. Okay." Eric rolled his eyes, not quite sure he believed that, although he'd like to, and _very_ sure he wasn't in any condition at the moment to process the idea. There'd be time to think about it later. He wrapped an arm about Wes's waist and hauled him towards the bed. As they ran into the edge he tried to lower Wes onto it, but lost his balance and fell on top of him. As Eric tried to get up, Wes rolled onto his back and pulled him back down. Trying to free himself - hell, even moving at all - seemed like an unreasonable amount of work, so he muttered, "Shove over," and squeezed himself into the available space, pressed uncomfortably close to Wes.

"So do you? Like guys?"

"Yeah, whatever. Just be quiet, willya?" Eric closed his eyes as the room swirled around him.

Wes's voice pulled him back as he began to drift. "Are you bisech... bisechl...?"

"Gay." Eric was vaguely sure that he would regret that admission in the morning, but at the moment the effort of lying was beyond him.

"Wha?"

"I'm _gay_. Now shuddup and go to sleep."

"Knew it." Wes's voice was blearily triumphant. "Seen you checkin' out guys sometimes... an' you never talk 'bout girls..." He rolled closer, an arm flopping over Eric's chest in what seemed very close to an embrace. It began to move, the fingers tracing the outlines of his arm and shoulder.

"What're you doing?"

"Nothin'" But it didn't feel like nothing as the hand began to journey south. Apparently Wes hadn't been kidding about being bi.

"Uh... I better sleep on the couch..." Eric tried again to get up.

But the arm across him tightened. "Erk..." Wes's breath was warm on his cheek. "Erk... don't go 'way... Don't wanna sleep alone... Again..." He sounded so forlorn, and his lips were brushing over Eric's neck, moving in a gentle caress that made his skin tingle and other parts take notice.

Eric turned his head, ready to say no, to stop him, and explain that this would only cause problems later on, but how could he say anything when Wes's lips were pressing against his? Even less when Wes's tongue felt so good as it slipped into his mouth, and when Wes's hands were moving over him and under his clothes and touching places that hadn't been touched by another person in so long that Eric could hardly remember the last time, and most of all when he had to admit to himself that this was what he wanted too...

Later, as Eric was beginning to sink into exhausted but satisfied slumber, he felt Wes stir again to hold him closer, voice thick with sleep as he murmured one word, soft and quiet but still understandable.

"Jen..."

Eric stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before sliding out of Wes's arms and stumbling off to sleep on the couch.

It was dark as he stepped through the doorway, too dark to find his way, darker than it should be. The familiar walls were suddenly gone, his furniture was missing, the sounds of his footsteps were echoing with the hollowness of a vast space, and somehow the carpeting had turned cold, hard, and metallic... He tripped, and fell, and was no longer in his house but in a warehouse filled with shelves and stacks of boxes.

"Eric? _Eric?_ Where are you?"

The shout brought him back to awareness. It was Wes's voice, sounding shaken. Footsteps were headed in his direction. Eric blinked at a dark, flat surface and realized he was on his hands and knees on the cold warehouse floor. "Over here," he managed to call, trying unsuccessfully to stop his own voice from trembling.

"Eric?" A light appeared, with a form behind it. Wes came forward unsteadily. "It happened again... It was - it was that night when we-"

Eric cut him off. "I _know_ which night. Gotta be Memora - she's making us remember these things."

"_Not just remember. Relive... and there's more to this memory, isn't there?"_ The voice was as soft and insubstantial as cobwebs, and sent a shiver of dread through him.

"Where is she?" Eric exclaimed, getting to his feet. "Gotta stop her before-" But it was too late, he already knew it as the smell of coffee filled the air, the walls of his kitchen shivered into view, and morning light intensified the pounding of his hangover...

He didn't bother to look up as he heard the shuffle of slow feet stopping in the kitchen doorway. "Morning," Eric muttered, trying to concentrate only on the steady drip of black liquid into the small coffeemaker pot.

"Morning," Wes said, his voice hesitant.

"Sit down." Still without looking, Eric gestured at the table.

"Thanks." There was the sound of a chair scuffing, and a sigh. "Man... my head is killing me."

"Yeah. Mine too. Coffee'll help."

"Eric..." A pause, heavy with uncertainty. "Um... Last night - did we...?"

"Yeah, we did."

"Oh, _man_."

This time Eric looked to find Wes watching him, his expression almost painfully anxious, maybe even fearful. With a shrug he turned back to the coffeepot, keeping his voice cool as he went into the speech he had been planning for the last hour. "Hey, don't worry about it. We were drunk out of our heads and things went a little out of control, but no big deal. Just forget it ever happened."

"Just forget it?" The question sounded genuinely bewildered.

"Yeah." Eric leaned on the counter with a sigh. "Look, we have to work together and we don't need any complications. Last night - I guess it was a mistake, but no harm done. Not like either of us wasn't willing." He looked at the table again. "Now I know you're bi and you know I'm gay, but it's not like either of us is going to tell anyone, right?

Wes's face was guarded now. "Well - of course not, I wouldn't tell anyone."

"Good. It didn't mean anything, after all. And it won't happen again. Right?" When Wes only stared at him blankly, he repeated, "Right?"

"Yeah. Right."

"Okay." Turning his back again, he glared unseeingly at the coffeepot, hardly aware of how hard he was gripping the countertop as it turned harder, thinner, and colder...

His fingers were clutching something hard, the sharp edges digging into the flesh. Metal shelves. He was kneeling against a shelving unit, holding himself half upright. Eric pulled in a deep breath and raised his head, fighting off disorientation. The warehouse. He was in the warehouse, trying to find a mutant. Concentrate on that. He looked around for Wes and saw him pulling himself up a few feet away.

"You okay?" Wes asked softly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Come on. I think I heard her."

"Okay..." He followed as they moved back the way they had come, and reached another broad aisle between the rows of shelving. "Which way?"

"I'm not sure."

"Great." Eric ran the beam of his light over the floor in one direction and then the other. "Dammit. What're we supposed to do even if we find her? She'll just hit us with another flashback."

"We have to try." Wes's voice was grim.

"No, we don't. Why don't we just go back to Bio-Lab and call your buddies from the future? Memorex here is _their_ problem. Let _them_ worry about her."

"Can't do that. She might get away, or attack civilians."

"Jesus Christ, do you have to be so damn noble all the damn time?" He sighed as Wes's shadowy face turned towards him with a half-smile. "Okay, okay." He pointed. "I'll go that way."

"Be careful."

"Whatever," Eric muttered as he started to walk down the aisle, glancing nervously from side to side as he passed the narrower spaces between sets of shelves. Damn mutant. Damn memories. Damn Wes. Damn everything.

- - -

_There._ This time Wes had his blaster out and swung it quickly at the movement he had glimpsed from the corner of his eye. Nothing. This whole thing had him so spooked he was jumping at shadows. Just memories, he told himself. He had lived through them, no reason for them to bother him so much now. No reason except that they included times he _really_ would prefer not to revisit. Same for Eric, obviously. If they could just get the drop on Memora and knock her out before-

There! A pale gray form, barely visible. Wes yelled, "Hold it right there!" and started after her as the hard cement floor softened into sand, the sound of breaking waves faded in, and the darkness shattered into the light of a setting sun. He reached out...

And took Jen's hand. She smiled, sadly, as they just looked at each other. Finally, she looked down and then back up at his face. "Wes, it's been so wonderful to see you again."

"Yeah, it's been pretty great for me too. I wish-"

"Don't." Her fingers tightened on his. "Don't wish for what can never come true." She looked at her feet again, biting her lip before continuing. "This is why I didn't contact you when I came to this time looking for the mutorgs. I didn't want to have to say goodbye again."

"It's worth it, just to see you again, and know you're all right." Wes smiled and pulled her into his arms. "It's worth it to have a few more memories," he whispered into her hair.

"You're right." She leaned against him, sighing, and then tilted her head back, eyes looking into his. It was only natural and right to bend his head and kiss her, a sad, tender, and lingering kiss, trying to memorize the feel of her soft lips for the years to come.

When he raised his head, she was smiling, just a little. "It's not as hard as the last time, is it?" Wes asked after a moment, half to himself.

"No. I guess we've both accepted it. Moved on." Jen stepped back a little, taking his hands again. "We can still make our own destinies. Just not together."

"Make our own destinies..." Wes forced a smile too, although he felt far from happy. "Yeah, I guess I know what you mean."

"Goodbye, Wes."

"Goodbye, Jen. I'll miss you. Goodbye."

She was still smiling, but her lips trembled and he saw tears sparkle in her eyes before she turned around, took a few steps toward the timeship, and disappeared.

Silently, they watched the ship take off, open a timehole, and vanish inside. Wes sighed and returned his attention to the beach, and to Eric, still standing a few yards away where he had been while the rest of them said their farewells, his face unreadable in the fading light. Slowly, Wes started in his direction.

"Well. I guess it's over," he said.

"Yeah. You okay?"

"I will be."

"Let's go." With that, Eric turned and headed for the car they had come in.

Wes stared out the window, watching the forest at the side of the highway and then the houses of the suburbs go by, his own thoughts moving just as fast and just as aimlessly. Jen. The last two days had brought up things he hadn't let himself think about for months. Jen, and how much he still missed her. Still loved her? Yes - not quite in the same way, but he couldn't even define how things had changed. Moved on, that was what she had said. But how much moving on had he really done?

He turned his head to steal a glance at Eric's profile, looking hard and set as he sat behind the wheel. The silence between them was beginning to get to him. "Weird seeing Ransik looking so human like that," he said, mostly to break it.

"Yeah."

"And Nadira. She looked good."

"Uh-huh."

"The picnic was fun, wasn't it?"

"Great."

"You seemed to be spending a lot of time with Taylor."

"Yeah. We have a few things in common. And it's not like I had anyone else to talk to."

"I thought the other Wild Force guys were nice."

"I don't even know them."

"You know Trip and Katie and Lucas. And you could have talked to Jen and me."

"Oh yeah. You would have loved having me around."

Wes frowned at the faint but unmistakable sarcasm. Had Eric been annoyed that he and Jen had kept to themselves so much? But he hadn't exactly been lonely himself - and that brought up another question. "So what was going on with you and Taylor?"

At least that got a glance, even if it was a slightly hostile one. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean... You're gay, aren't you?"

"Mostly."

"Mostly?"

"That's what I said."

"So did you... I mean..."

"Did we run off and have a hot fuck in the woods?" Eric grinned, but it wasn't an entirely friendly expression. "Even if she was willing, which I doubt - no. We were just hanging out, having a little fun. I do have _fun_ sometimes, you know. And because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm not allowed to flirt with a girl."

"I know that. Geez. Sorry I asked." Wes turned away to stare moodily out the window again. Eric used language like that when he wanted to be annoying... Somehow, at some point since they had left the Animarium, he had gone from being unusually supportive and even more unusually social during the last two days to coldly distant, although Wes had no idea why. The one thought that occurred to him was so ridiculous that he dismissed it immediately - Eric was the one who had said their brief encounter didn't mean anything, and he had shown no interest in repeating it in the months since. There was no way he was jealous of Jen.

"So did you two do it last night?"

"Huh?" Startled, Wes glanced at Eric again to find him staring fiercely at the road ahead. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Did you finally get in Jen's pants?"

Wes shot Eric a glare. "No!"

"Why not? Don't tell me she didn't want to."

"Neither of us did! We knew she'd be leaving - it wouldn't be right."

They had turned onto Eric's street and were passing Wes's car, still parked where he had left it a few hours ago. Eric pulled in behind it and stopped the car. "Bullshit. You had the chance and you blew it." He sneered. "Maybe if you knew what you're missing, you could finally forget about her," he said before pushing the door open and getting out.

"Maybe I don't want to forget about her!" Wes got out also, slamming the door behind him.

"If you had any brains you would." Eric headed for his front door, reaching in a pocket for his keys.

"Dammit, Eric... What the hell's your problem? Why are you acting like this?"

The door opened. "Like what?" Eric tossed at him before stepping inside.

"Talking about Jen like that! You never liked her, did you?" Wes followed, watched him close the door and pursued him into the living room.

"Got nothing to do with Jen." Eric stopped in the middle of the room and swung around to face him. "As a matter of fact, I do like her. She's a tough woman, but nice, and if I was straight I could go for her myself." He raised a finger to point at Wes's face. "But she's gone, and she's not coming back. And if you're going to spend months whining about how much you miss her again, find someone else to listen to you this time. _I'm_ not interested."

"Huh," Wes said, crossing his arms. "Yeah, I keep forgetting you don't care about anyone except yourself."

"You have no clue what I care about." Eric was staring, eyes narrowed.

"So why don't you enlighten me? What do you care about, Eric? Not _love_. Maybe getting laid, since you seem to think that's the answer to all my problems!"

"Maybe it is. Nice and simple. Just do it and finally stop thinking about it..."

Eric's gaze intensified, he took a slow step forward as they held each other's eyes. Then suddenly he moved, hands reaching out so fast that for an instant Wes thought it was an attack and instinctively flinched back. But Eric didn't hit him. He grabbed Wes's shoulders in a hard grip and pulled him closer, fastening their mouths together in a brutally demanding kiss, teeth pressing almost painfully into Wes's lips as his tongue pried its way between them.

Taken completely by surprise, Wes froze, and then brought up his hands to shove Eric violently away. They glared at each other tensely, something hot and dark and primal flaring in Eric's eyes. Something that found an answer in the surge of fire that seemed to rise from Wes's gut to his head and flow back down; and this time he was the one who moved, grabbing Eric and returning the force of that kiss with interest.

An instant later they were tearing at each other's clothes, growling with impatience as belts and zippers became only obstacles. Then he was pushing Eric to the floor, pinning him down as they wrestled for dominance, the struggle only adding to his excitement. Hands groping roughly, bodies clashing, they took each other with no subtlety or gentleness or control, only urgent and unreasoning passion.

It was over in minutes, and Wes found himself lying on scratchy carpeting, pants crumpled around his ankles and in need of a towel. As his breathing slowed back to normal, he saw Eric push himself up, reach for a box of tissues and toss them over.

"Thanks," he muttered, starting to feel embarrassed by the situation and ashamed of his own behavior as he pulled his clothes back into place and climbed to his feet. "Wow..." he said. "That was really... different."

"Yeah. It was different all right." Eric turned to look at him, a hesitant-looking smile grazing his lips.

"You okay?"

"Sure. I'm great."

"Look, I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"I mean... I don't know why I did that. It was so not me." Wes combed his fingers through his hair in an effort to straighten it and attempted to smile. "I wasn't even drunk this time. Been a weird couple of days, with Jen being here and leaving again; guess I just got kind of carried away."

Eric's smile faded. "I guess we both did," he said, his voice flat. "And I started it, so don't bother to apologize. But it's no big deal, is it? Just like the last time."

"I mean, we're friends and I don't want it to be a problem or anything." Wes had the unmistakable feeling that something was wrong, that he was missing something - but he didn't understand what had just happened between them, and knew even less how he felt about it.

"You're right; it's been a weird couple of days. Maybe this was just blowing off steam. We should just forget it." Eric had gone to sit on the couch, watching him with an expression so cool and distant that the memory of them panting on the floor together moments ago suddenly seemed incredible. He was probably wishing Wes would leave. And maybe that would be the best thing to do, just leave and figure all of this out later.

"I'd better go," he said. "Dad'll be wondering where I am."

"Yeah."

"So... See you at work."

"See ya."

Wes was at the door, stepping out into the night, looking up to a sky flooded with moonlight and feeling a fresh breeze stirring around him. For a moment he paused, oddly reluctant to head home. As he hesitated, the light began to fade and the air stilled and became thicker, and musty. The stars winked out and the moon paled and disappeared. He was huddled on his knees on a cold, hard floor, gasping in reaction and shock.

"_An interesting memory."_ It was that thin, whispery voice again. Memora. "_Why do you avoid it?"_

Wes shook his head and tried to concentrate, and to decide which direction the sound had come from. "How are you doing this?" he asked, to keep her talking.

"_This is one of my mutant abilities. The power to bring back memories, especially those that carry strong emotions. Loss, shame, anger, grief... love and desire."_

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out. We captured Ransik more than a year ago. Thought we had gotten all his mutants, too. What are you doing still here?"

"_I have stayed here, in this building, for most of that time. Hiding."_

"Hiding? Why?"

There was a soft, dry chuckle. "_If you were a creature like me, one that humans run from in fear and horror, you would not ask that question."_

"Maybe," Wes conceded. "But - I don't understand. If you came with Ransik, how come you never attacked us when he was here?"

"_I am not one of his gang of criminals. He intended me to attack the city as his other mutants did, but I escaped and found my way here."_

"You're not a criminal?"

"_Only in the technical sense. Life isn't easy for a mutant in my native time. I was forced to steal in order to survive, and I was forced to use my power to defend myself."_

"Your power. To make people relive their memories."

"_Yes. To face the most emotional times in their pasts. It can be used as a weapon. It can also help people to find the truth."_

"The truth... Can you... You can _see_ other people's memories?"

"_That is one of my abilities."_ There was another low chuckle. "_You're embarrassed. Don't be. Your memories, and your friend's, are tame in comparison to some I've seen."_

"Easy for you to say," Wes muttered, his embarrassment unrelieved. "Look, if you're not a real criminal, we don't want to hurt you. If you give yourself up, we can ask our friends in Time Force to make sure you get a fair trial. Maybe you can be released."

"_Tell that to your partner."_

"Eric won't-"

But as if on cue, a harsh voice pierced the darkness. Startled, Wes swung his flashlight up to see a form in red and black, Eric suited up as the Quantum Ranger, leaping from behind the cover of a forklift parked nearby.

- - -

He had located them, several rows of shelving away, and morphed where they were unlikely to see the light of his transformation or hear his soft command to his morpher. Slowly Eric crept closer, trying to pin down exactly where the mutant was. They were talking. Just like Wes to try to settle things without a fight, when what they needed to do was blast her while she was off-guard, before she could send them into another memory. His thoughts shied away from that last one, with its intensity and its confusion, and settled into renewed determination that she wouldn't get the chance to do it to them again.

"Wes, get down!" he shouted as he leaped over the machine that was the last barrier between him and them.

There was a flare of light as Wes's flashlight beam swung up and caught him, making him blink and shield his eyes with his hand as he landed - not in the warehouse but in a hotel parking lot, not in his Ranger suit but in his Silver Guardian uniform. Wes was no longer crouched on the floor but standing at his side, hand raised to wave as headlights washed over them...

"Nice guys, aren't they?" Wes asked as they watched the last of the cars pull out of the lot and disappear onto the highway.

"Yeah, they're not bad."

"Not bad, huh?" Wes grinned and clapped a hand on Eric's shoulder as they headed for the entrance of the hotel. "Not bad! Wow, I guess you were really impressed!"

"Okay, okay." Eric returned the smile. "They were pretty cool."

"Man, I always wanted to meet Tommy Oliver. And Jason Scott. He was the first red Ranger, you know."

"I know."

"But they were all great."

"Yeah. Man, you're such a kid sometimes." Eric shook his head as they reached the elevators.

"I guess I am, about something like this. It's been incredible, hasn't it? Being summoned to join all the other red Rangers, driving to NASADA..."

"Going to the Moon. Damn." That part would impress anyone, Eric thought; he was even ready to admit it himself.

"Yeah, and that fight - I was pretty worried there a couple of times. Were you?"

"Maybe once or twice." They left the elevator on their floor and started down the hall to their adjoining rooms. "Serpentera was pretty tough."

"Tough! It was awesome..." Wes gave him a sidelong glance. "I bet it could have beaten the Q-Rex."

"Hey, don't talk about Q-Rex like that. Have some respect." Eric saw that Wes was laughing at him and smiled as they stopped.

"I'm glad we decided not to drive all the way back to Silver Hills tonight," Wes said as he reached into a pocket for his room key. "But I don't feel like sleeping yet, do you?"

"I guess it's a little early." Eric knew how Wes felt - still keyed up from the mission, the fight, and even their late dinner with several of the red Rangers.

"So come in for a while." Without waiting for an answer, Wes led the way into his room and closed the door behind them. "Cole really came through," he continued. "The rookie, they called him - but he did okay."

"Yeah. Were you surprised?"

"Not really. Not after the last time." Wes's expression changed, much of the enthusiasm fading. "He's a good kid, and he's got a great team."

"You don't look very happy about it. Sorry to see another bunch of Rangers taking over like that?"

"No... well, maybe a little. I mean, we still have our morphers, and we have our jobs with the Guardians. Can't complain that life isn't exciting." Wes relaxed on the side of the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

"No, I won't complain about that." Eric turned a chair to face him and sat. "So what's the problem?"

Wes shrugged. "No problem." Eric waited, raising a brow, and after a moment Wes looked up at him and smiled, a little sadly. "I guess I do envy him a little. He's got his teammates with him, and even after they beat Master Org... they'll still be around."

"And all your friends are gone, back to the future," Eric said quietly after a moment, careful to keep his face blank.

"Yeah... Sometimes I still wish they could have stayed."

"I know. Seeing Cole again reminded me of the last time they were here, too."

Wes gave him a forced-looking smile. "Sorry. I guess we shouldn't be talking about this."

"Why not?"

"Well..." His eyes avoided Eric's. "I know you think I'm an idiot to still think about Jen."

Restless and suddenly uncomfortable, Eric got up. "Wes, I don't think you're an idiot. I just think you need to - to move on a little. Find someone else, maybe."

"Move on." Now Wes was looking directly at him. "Funny, that's what Jen said, too."

"Smart girl."

"Yeah, I always thought so." Wes was still watching him.

Eric took a step and laid his hand on the doorknob. "I guess I should get going. It's - it's kind of late."

"Thanks for listening. And not getting mad." Wes got up from the bed and crossed the room to face him.

"Why should I get mad?"

"Why do you ever?" Wes grinned, and then quickly sobered. "Uh, Eric... Not all my friends went back to the future. _You're_ still here. And I'm glad you are."

As uncomfortable as he always was with any display of affection, but pleased, Eric shrugged. "Well, thanks." He put his hand on the knob again. "I guess I'll see ya."

"Eric." As he turned back, Wes stepped forward and hugged him, arms circling him and pulling them lightly together. It was nothing but a friendly hug... but Eric could feel the warmth of his body, and the skin of his cheek against his own. They stood like that for a few seconds, as he awkwardly patted Wes on the back and then let his hands stay there.

Wes loosened the embrace and pulled back, just a little. They looked into each other's eyes until Wes hesitantly closed the space between them again by touching his lips to Eric's, very slowly and gently. Eric accepted it, not responding but not resisting, knowing he should stop this before it went any further but not quite able to. Wes's lips were so soft, and so warm, and somehow now Eric was kissing back, and touching back, his fingers tracing the lines of Wes's body, finding every muscle and bone he still remembered so vividly from before.

Wes moved his head back again, only an inch or two, raised a hand and tenderly stroked the line of Eric's jaw. The hint of a smile crossed his face before he leaned in again for a deeper kiss, took Eric's hands, and drew him towards the bed.

The first pale rays of the morning sun were just starting to filter through filmy curtains when Eric stirred and slid silently from under the covers. It took only a few minutes to find his clothes and dress. Picking up his shoes, he padded to the door and turned back for a last look at the man lying in the bed, an arm thrown over his head, his face so young and untroubled in sleep.

Wes had said it himself. They were friends. Just friends. This had been no more than - loneliness, the need for a little contact. That's all it was. As far as Wes was concerned, anyway. For Eric it had been too much of a temptation, too much of what he longed for in the depths of his private heart for even his usually strong self-control to resist. But - no reason to think it meant anything, or would lead to anything, any more than it had the last two times. Certainly no need to embarrass both of them or take the chance of ruining their friendship by trying to make more of it than it was.

Leave it as a pleasant, casual encounter between friends - and forget it.

_Forget..._ he seemed to hear the word in a soft, sibilant whisper as he stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him. _But you can't forget, can you? Memory lives, and you must live with it._ The hallway darkened as he stopped, dismayed. It warped, blurred, expanded, melted away into the dimness of a warehouse stacked with dusty and forgotten things, as neglected and ignored and yet as real as his memories.

"Eric..." It was Wes's voice, shaken and breathless, from not far away. Eric tried to bring himself back to the reality of the dusty floor he was lying on. The first thing he noticed was that he had demorphed at some point in the reliving of that night in a hotel room not long ago. The second was that he was looking at someone, someone who was most definitely not Wes.

A pale form the color of ashes wavered in front of him, materializing from the shadows cast by their flashlights. It didn't move as he scrambled to get up and directed the beam at her. Memora - it had to be her: tall, a feminine shape, but too powerful-looking to be entirely human. As the light caught her she faced it unblinkingly, revealing unnaturally large, round, dark eyes, an almost lipless mouth, a short, flat nose, and hair like gray cobwebs draped delicately over broad shoulders.

"I surrender," she said gravely.

- - -

"Could I talk to you a minute?" Wes took Jen's arm and led her a few steps away from where Eric was talking quietly with Lucas, Katie, and Trip.

They were on the beach again, with the timeship Jen and the others had arrived in sitting on the sand nearby. For a moment Wes was struck by the thought of all the memories he had of this place - and of how many of them he had relived the night before.

It was early morning. He and Eric had been up most of the night, first hunting Memora in that warehouse, then bringing her in and making sure she was securely but comfortably locked up in a Silver Guardians detention facility, and finally contacting Time Force to come get her. They had been so anxious to turn her over - to get rid of her and her disturbing power, really - that he hadn't spared much time to think about what had happened. Until now.

"What's on your mind?" Jen was watching him with an inquiring expression.

"Memora. She said she's not really a criminal, and she didn't attack anyone when Ransik was here or all the time since then, so I believe her. Plus she gave up and turned herself in." Wes held up a hand as Jen seemed about to speak. "I'm just saying maybe Time Force could look into her case. Give her some credit for good behavior or something. I kind of hate to think of her going back to prison."

Jen was smiling. "I already looked at her record before we left to come here. Things have changed in my time, Wes. With Ransik reformed - well, some of our attitudes are different as well. A lot of mutants are being given new trials. Fair trials, this time. Quite a few are being released and helped to get a start on a normal life." She glanced at the dust-pale form of their prisoner. "I think Memora won't be going back to prison. She never did anything really bad. Her power makes her dangerous, but she doesn't seem to want to use it to hurt people."

"No, I'm pretty sure she doesn't."

She looked up at him, pausing a moment before asking, "How have you been, Wes?"

"You know." He took her hands. "Moving on. You?"

"Not bad. I've been promoted."

"That's great; congratulations." He grinned. "If you don't mind me asking - how's Alex?"

"He's fine. We see each other once in a while. Mostly as friends."

"You and Alex were engaged. When you loved someone, you don't just stop caring about them." Wes's glance strayed almost involuntarily to Eric. "Even if you find someone else, and start caring about them just as much..." His eyes came back to her. "Do you?"

"No, you don't. And remember what Ransik said to me once? You never know what the future may bring." She smiled again, her fingers squeezing his. "We should go. Can't spend much time here."

"Too bad. But it's great to see you again."

Saying goodbye was easier this time than last, Wes thought as they rejoined the other Rangers. If it happened again they would only be old friends happy to be reunited for a short time and then accepting their separation with regret but little pain, both moving on to their own destinies. The thought was bittersweet, regretful but also comforting.

There were a few minutes of goodbyes, with handshakes and hugs all around. Acutely aware of Eric watching, Wes embraced Jen for only a moment. He saved his last goodbye for the mutant they were sending back to the future, stopping her as she began to follow the Time Force officers to their ship.

"There's something I've been wondering about," he said.

"You want to know why I surrendered to you," Memora said.

"Well, yeah. We didn't exactly have you cornered. You could have gotten away pretty easily."

"True. But over a year alone in a dusty warehouse was more than enough. I saw in your hearts that you would not harm me unless you were forced to, so I decided to let you return me to my home, even if it might mean a return to prison."

"You knew we wouldn't hurt you?" Wes frowned. "Then why did you-"

"Why did I force both of you to relive those memories? And why those particular memories?"

"Well, yeah. Why?"

"Perhaps because it was something you both needed to remember." Memora glanced at Eric, who was listening with a silent scowl, and then back at Wes. "Farewell, Rangers. And this time - don't forget."

Five minutes later, Wes was feeling considerable déjà vu as he and Eric watched the timeship vanish into the tunnel of a timehole. As the sky regained its unmarked clear blue, he looked at his partner.

"Guess we should be getting back," Eric said, and started towards the car they had come in.

"Wait."

"What?" Eric stopped and turned to face him, but didn't come back.

Wes went to him, stopping a few steps away. "We need to have a talk."

"About what?"

Wes raised an ironic brow. "You _know_ about what."

"No, I don't."

"About why Memora brought back all those memories for us."

Eric shrugged. "How do I know why some crazy-ass mutant messed with our minds? Just forget it."

"We've forgotten about things long enough." Wes looked in the direction of the car. "Look, can we go back to your place and talk about this?"

"No." Eric's face was obstinate and unrevealing.

"No? What do you mean? Why not?"

"_Why?_" Eric backed off a step, the stubborn expression becoming an angry glare. "Because I'm not doing this again, Wes! I'm not going to be your fucking booty call every fucking time you're fucking depressed because of fucking Jen leaving!"

Startled and dismayed, Wes stared at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You know fucking well what I'm talking about! Every time she shows up, or you get reminded of her, you end up with me! For _one_ fucking time! And then you're off on your merry way and it's like nothing happened!"

"How can you say that? It's not like that at all!"

"The hell it isn't!"

"That first time, when we were drunk, it wasn't my idea to say it didn't mean anything! You're the one who wanted to just forget about it!"

"Oh yeah? God dammit, Wes, do you have any idea what it feels like to hear someone you just had sex with say someone else's name?"

That brought Wes up with a cold jolt. "No... I didn't!" he protested.

"You sure did. 'Jen', clear as day." Eric crossed his arms, looking angry and victorious - and hurt.

"Oh, man... I was drunk. Didn't know what I was saying."

"In vino veritas, Wes. In vino fucking veritas."

"Look..." Wes raked his fingers through his hair, trying to think. "Yeah, you're right, I was still thinking about Jen then. Yeah, I was depressed and lonely. But do you really think I would have turned to someone I didn't care about? What kind of a jerk do you think I am?"

"I dunno," Eric said with a smirk, arms still crossed. "What kind of a jerk _are_ you?"

Wes ignored him. "There's a reason I was with you and not just someone I picked up at a bar or something. I felt something for you. I felt a lot."

"Well..." Eric's expression softened a little - but just a little. "What about the next time?"

"Hey, I already said I was sorry about jumping you like that."

"That's not what I mean, you moron. The jumping part was great. It was after. You were _ashamed_, Wes. Ashamed of being with me."

"What? Now that's not fair. I was - I was kind of embarrassed about acting like that, but not about being with _you_."

"You said it was 'so not you'. You said you got all carried away because Saint Jen was back and left again."

Wes grimaced. "Well... I guess I did say that. But I didn't mean it the way it sounded." He raised his chin. "And what about the last time, in the hotel? I wanted more than just one night, Eric. _You're_ the one who sneaked out while I was asleep and acted like nothing happened the next day. You wouldn't even talk about it. I figured it didn't mean anything to you, like you said the first time."

"I thought - I thought the same thing about you. Didn't want to make trouble." Eric stared at him, arms uncrossing at last and falling to his sides. "So..."

"So... Let's be honest, for once. How do you feel about it? About me?"

Eric's eyes became guarded. "How do _you_ feel?"

Wes sighed. Some things never change. "Okay, _I'll_ be honest. I don't know for sure exactly how I feel about you, but I know I like you, Eric, as more than a friend and for more than sex. I don't know for sure how much more, but it could be a lot. I'd like to find out. How about it?"

The anger was gone from Eric's face now, but it was still stubborn. "But you'd still rather be with Jen, wouldn't you, if you had the chance?"

"A few months ago, maybe up to that night in the hotel, yes," Wes answered truthfully. "But now... no."

"Well... But what about the next woman you meet? Being with a woman would make your life a lot easier than being with me."

"True. But I'm not going to choose someone to be with just because it's easy."

"Maybe you prefer women anyway."

"All I know is - I prefer _you_."

"I... uh..." Eric's eyes dropped, the last of his defenses visibly crumbling.

"I've told you the truth the best I can," Wes said softly. "It's your turn."

"Okay," Eric said, taking a deep breath. "I started to like you back when the others were still here, when you kept trying so hard to make friends. Then, when we did get to be friends, I started to want more than that..." He looked up, his face open and exposed for once, and vulnerable - an offering that meant more than a flowery declaration of love from most other people would have. "Well, I guess I went past just liking you a long time ago."

"So, what now?" Wes took a step forward, watching a smile beginning to warm his partner's face.

"We could go back to my place, like you said."

"I dunno." Wes reached him and leaned in to brush a teasing kiss across his lips. "Maybe we should date a little first, just to be sure. Dinner, a few movies... Then, if everything works out..." He let his mouth linger on Eric's a little longer. "Maybe sometime around the third date, we could start holding hands."

"Or we could head over to my place right now and get naked on each other," Eric said.

Wes grinned and draped an arm over Eric's shoulders as they started for the car. "You know, I like the way you think."

- End -


End file.
